{"id":4381,"date":"2018-04-17T12:55:16","date_gmt":"2018-04-17T16:55:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/?p=4381"},"modified":"2018-04-17T12:55:16","modified_gmt":"2018-04-17T16:55:16","slug":"different","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/?p=4381","title":{"rendered":"Different"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I am such a quirky person.<\/p>\n<p>I am weird.<\/p>\n<p>I am unique.<\/p>\n<p>I am truly different.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">Now if you are just meeting me for the first time, depending on the environment, you may find me friendly and outgoing. \u00a0Or quiet and shy. \u00a0(If you know me well, I realize that the quiet and shy me, my seem a bit of a stretch). \u00a0Yet trust me, there are places where I just go into my shell.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">I have often talked about my shy, nerdy, misfit self, especially in high school. \u00a0I yearned to be just like everyone else. \u00a0I hated that I stuck out like a sore thumb. \u00a0We were poor, we were minorities, my dad was shameless in every way. \u00a0I am not sure but I think being white might have been on my wish list. \u00a0Huh? \u00a0Well, in the community we were part of, the majority of people were white, educated and well off. \u00a0I felt like I stuck out like at giraffe &#8230; I had HUGE glasses. \u00a0I had no name jeans. \u00a0I was so skinny, twig like skinny. \u00a0I had huge feet. \u00a0I tripped over my feet. \u00a0There was nothing graceful about me. \u00a0I had no skills in music, art nor did I have one athletic bone in me. \u00a0I was beyond shy. \u00a0One of my closest friends now loves telling about how when she talked to me that first day, I looked like I wanted to just blend into the locker rather than be spoken too. \u00a0I was so different. \u00a0I hated being different.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">It took a lot of years for me to realize that I <em>was<\/em> different. \u00a0I was special and lovable. \u00a0I mean just because I did not like me&#8230; did not mean much. \u00a0God put people in my life that loved me unconditional and over time, I saw myself through eyes of God and \u00a0learned over the years to love me.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">As I have aged, I have learned to see being different as a cool kind of thing. \u00a0I have learned to see what God blessed me with, the crazy, quirky traits as a special gift.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">I watch my boys embrace their differences. \u00a0We live in a town, again, predominately white, though that is changing. \u00a0They went to a school where they were they only minorities in the school for a long time, though that has changed too. \u00a0Yet I love that they are able to embrace their uniqueness. \u00a0I love that they are learning self love at an early age. \u00a0I am sure they have their insecurities, of course but over all they seem to embrace their uniqueness.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">I love this song&#8230;<\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/xUT4trsrBCw?feature=oembed\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"autoplay; encrypted-media\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">\u00a0<em><strong>\u00a0Different \u00a0<\/strong><\/em>As I was making supper last night it was playing and I found myself so grateful for my \u00a0differences. \u00a0I am working towards being different in a way that is pleasing to God. \u00a0I love that He IS so different and that He invites me to be like Him. \u00a0I love that as I open my heart, He is changing me, bit by bit. \u00a0I want the world to see <em>&#8220;that there is something different in me.&#8221;<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: justify;\">\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I am such a quirky person. I am weird. I am unique. I am truly different. Now if you are just meeting me for the first time, depending on the environment, you may find me friendly and outgoing. \u00a0Or quiet &hellip; <a href=\"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/?p=4381\">Continue reading <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,189,28,6,1,32,15,5,11,55],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4381"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4381"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4381\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4382,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4381\/revisions\/4382"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4381"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4381"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4381"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}